a beautiful mess
by darkshiptrash
Summary: Harry Potter is eighteen and right out of a boarding school when he meets Cedric Diggory at the cinema theater he had been forced to work at by his mother. Some might call it a fate or destiny, some poetic shit like that, but Harry called it what it was, a simple accident.
1. One

Look, there was a chance Harry may have turned out to be somewhat okay in a world where his parents were still happily married, in a world where Harry wasn't so fucking gay and in a constant fear that either of his parents would loathe him for it, or both even, but that wasn't this world. Truth was, Harry's life was series of roller coasters. Meaning he was completely fine one second and the next, he was like vomiting down the fucking roller coaster ride because he thought it was a rather fine idea to drink himself out beforehand like some fool. To say it backfired on him was an understatement.

"You are a fucking mess." Draco Malfoy told him the morning after Harry had drunken himself to the oblivion, feeling quite like he would like to vomit very much right here on the bathroom floor. "I am not even joking when I say this, mate. You are a fucking mess."

Harry took another sip of his drink. "Thank you."

Draco glared. "It wasn't a compliment."

Harry shrugged his shoulders casually. "I know. But my self esteem is so fucking low that even that sounds like such a compliment compared to what I think of myself."

"That's so fucking pathetic, Potter." Draco informed him bluntly, gripping his waist to help him to his feet. "Look, mate, as much as I would like to leave you to this emotional hole you stuck yourself in, you are in my house and my family has an important guest coming over this evening. So, unfortunately having my former nemesis in the bathroom while we dine with him is out of a table."

"Tom Riddle?" Harry asked as they somehow made it down the stairs of the manor.

Draco snorted. "As if the Prime Minister would ever come here. In case you have somehow failed to notice, Potter, Riddle doesn't particularly like my father."

"Nobody likes your father." Harry found the need to point out. "He's like a fucking Grinch. Always there to ruin people's fun." Growing up, Harry was fucking afraid of Draco's father. That was back when Harry would have gladly set Draco's shining, fair hair on the fire, but Draco's father, Harry would have ran from up the bloody hill in a flash. He always looked like he was plotting something malicious and equally dangerous like some comic book villain and he walked around with a fucking cane in his hands. Like who the fuck did that who wasn't a comic book villain? In fact, he wasn't completely sure that even comic book villains did that. He had never been a huge comic book fan. "So, who's really coming here?"

"My cousin Regulus. He's like, this totally big shot lawyer in France. And father intends to sway him into helping him out with this case he's trying to build against Dumbledore." The name sounded vaguely familiar to him for some reason. Draco sighed, shaking his head as he helped him out of the door. "He's Sirius's younger brother, but I've heard they don't exactly get along."

Ah, that guy. Harry could vaguely remember Sirius going on and on about his perfect, smug ass wealthy lawyer of a brother that his mother preferred so much over him every time he was drunk, which was like, once every few months.

"Come on, let's hurry up and escape before either of my parents comes looking for me. Listen, they cannot know I've had a party yesterday while they were gone. The last time they've found out, they've taken my football privileges. I cannot bear to be forced to spend another month without either watching or playing a football." Draco sounded like the experience had been tremendously traumatizing for him.

"Hermione would be glad to have you away from a football."

"Hermione wants me to spend every minute of my time on trying to help her wi those poor, sheltered orphans that she took a pity on this time."

"What was it the last time?" Harry frowned, rocking his head trying to remember as they walked side by side to the bus stop. "Puppies?"

Draco groaned deeply under his breath. "Don't even mention puppies. I've spend thousands on those bloody puppies."

"Maybe next time it would be the immigrants."

"Try mentioning immigrants to her, Potter, I would make sure to cut your bloody throat out." Draco looked as if he would indeed cut Harry's throat out if he even mentioned those poor immigrants to her. "Look, I am sure that those poor orphans and immigrants are worth saving, but I am tired of having my dates turn into a helping her out with those charity cases she takes herself upon and burning a hole in my bloody wallet because I cannot say no to that face."

Harry chuckled, finding all of this incredibly hilarious. "It's not like you don't have enough money to pay for all of them."

"That's not the fucking point! The point is, I love that woman like I love breathing this summer air, but I swear if she drags me off to help out another one of her charity cases, I am going insane." Draco took a deep, long breath. "Anyway, ranting time over. What's going on with you? Why in the bloody hell did you drink yourself out like that yesterday?"

Harry took a deep, antagonizing breath before he started to explain, "My dad's getting married."

Draco stared. "So?" He asked. "Your father is marrying. Good for him. It's not like you ever thought he and your mother were destined to be together."

"To Celeste Zabini." Harry added somehow pointedly. Draco's gray eyes widened in a surprise and they shifted into a look of pity, his mouth pressed tightly together. "It's fine. I am fine. It's not like I am still mooning over Blaise, but I would have liked to have been warned beforehand, you know?"

"In your father's defense, Potter, your father isn't aware you and Blaise used to fuck in boys' lockrooms like bunnies from a good gay porn movie when you two were at the boarding school." Draco reminded him. "Or the fact that you swing the opposite way."

Harry sighed deeply under his breath, shaking vividly at the thought of having to come out to his parents. "Sometimes I think I can do it — I can tell them that I am a gay. I mean, it's not like it's something worth being all stressed over, but then I think of what happened when Percy came out to his mother a few years ago and I just — I can't do it. It's just too fucking scary."

"Your mother doesn't have anything in the common with Molly Weasley aside from having a very red hair, but even then, Potter, it's entirely a different shade of a red." Draco informed him, a grasp on his shoulder. "Besides, look at how Percy is doing right now. He's happily married with Oliver. So, even if your mother does run you out of the house, it's not like you will forever doomed to be unhappy. You will find someone."

"I am a fucking mess, Malfoy. You've told me so. Who in their right mind would want me?"

"I didn't think anyone in their right mind would want Weasley either, but look at him now. He's happy enough with both Brown and Patil. And if two people were crazy enough to want that ginger weasel, then someone out there would want you too. Someone very gay and masculine looking, that is. We don't want a repeat of the incident with Ginny Weasley."

Harry shivered. No, he definitely didn't want another straight girl crushing on him this time around. "You know, that's not very comforting thing to say."

"Well, I am not a very nice person." Draco told him with a teasing smirk. "Come on, get going, mate. I am sure your mother is worrying herself out right now. You did, after all, fail to turn up home yesterday night after you have promised her you would."

Immediately, Harry paled. He had forgotten he had promised his mother he would come home yesterday night. "Do you think I can dig up a hole I can hide myself in?"

Draco rolled his eyes rather dramatically. "Relax, mate. Theodore had called your mother to notify her yesterday night. So, you are safe for now."

Harry took a sigh of relief at the rather welcoming news. "Tell Theodore I love him and if he was a gay dude, I would have totally jumped on his bones."

"Tell him that yourself. There's no way I am telling my best friend that."

Harry chuckled. "Pray for me, Draco."

"I am an atheist, fucker."

"Pray for me anyway."

Draco gave him a middle finger. "Fuck you, Potter."

"Thanks for the proposition, Malfoy, but I don't make a habit of fucking straight, pale dudes who just happens to be dating my best friend."

Draco glared at him. "Fucking hilarious." He droned. "Go back home."

"Promise me you will put my favorite flowers on my grave when my mother murders me."

Draco smirked teasingly at him. "I will put daisies on your grave."

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"I am sorry, but four-eyed, self hating dudes aren't my type." Harry stuck his tongue at him. "What are you, five?"

"Please, I am an eleven."

Rolling his eyes, Draco patted Harry on his shoulder. "I'll see you tonight at the Inn?"

"You can count on it." And boarding the bus with a light chuckle, Harry bid his friend a goodbye with a mock salute. Rolling on his heel playfully, after having paid the bus driver a coin, he fell on a seat at the back of the bus and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Look, if there was anything Harry really didn't wish to talk about with his mother right now, it was the fact that his father was getting married to his ex boyfriend's mother who may or may not murder his father during the wedding night. "Harry, I know these past years since the divorce was difficult on you, but you can't just keep arriving with an awful hangover at eight in the morning after one party or another. I will no longer tolerate it. So, I've come to a decision."

"Are you taking Hedwig away?" Harry asked.

"What?" Lily frowned. "No!" She cried out rather indigenously in the disbelief, "Why would I take your owl away from you? I am not a monster. I know how much that owl means to you, especially with your father gone as often as he is."

Truth was, his parents had battled in a court to decide who would get him in the divorce and somehow, despite all of his father's family connections and money, his mother won the battle in the court. Even now, he didn't quite know how she had done it. Anyway, it was decided in the court that his father would get to see him once every few weeks, while his mother would get to have him the rest of the time. So, it wasn't completely his fault that his father was gone as often as he was. It was simply the fault of his mother's obnoxiously good lawyer. However, it didn't mean Harry didn't loathe him sometimes.

Especially during those times when his father would leave him behind to travel around the world with his friends who also weren't still over their teenage phrase of having tremendous amount of a good time. _James became a father way earlier than he was ready to be one,_ his mother had told him once. _It isn't even his fault. He loves you, Harry, more than you could possibly imagine he does, but he just wasn't ready for the responsibilities that having you required at the time. Now, we're facing the consequences of it. It's a bitter and hard reality, Harry, but it's the truth nonetheless._

"Are you setting me up on a blind date?"

His mother looked absolutely horrified at the prospect of setting him up on a blind date. "Gods, no! Who you decide to date is entirely your business. I am not a Walburga." For some reason he couldn't fathom, his mother always held this deep loathing towards Sirius's mother. Harry always did wonder what the woman did to piss her off, but he had always been way too anxious to ask. He had a feeling he didn't really want to know. "I want you to work a part time at the cinema starting from today."

"What?" He glared at her with a look of horror. "Why?"

"If you work a part time at the cinema, you would have a less time getting drunk. You didn't listen to me when I asked you nicely to stop doing this, Harry. You should have listened. But you've left with no other choice, Harry." She stared at him with a somewhat regretful look on her face. "Your work starts in an hour. You better start moving. You wouldn't wanna be late on your first day, do you?"

* * *

"So, do you know if Titanic is any good?"

Growling in the annoyance at the voice, Harry forced himself to act like he was totally enjoying having to work at the cinema. "It's Titanic. It's like, a total classic. People die and shit. What do you expect?"

"Is that a spoiler?" The annoyingly attractive voice asked.

"Look, unless you've been living under a rock for the last decade, you would totally know Titanic sank because of a fucking iceberg." He lifted his head to look at him and almost fell over himself due the shock at how attractive this guy was, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the sight of him. "Were you living under a rock this whole time?"

The guy chuckled in a completely, obnoxiously attractive way that had his insides twisting in a totally pleasant way that they had absolutely no business doing.

Right there, Harry decided he hated him.

"No, but I did live locked up in a mansion full of teachers and servants to keep me in a check the first few years of my life." Harry arched his eyebrow curiously at him. "My father was overly protective."

"Are you expecting me to feel pitiful towards you?"

The guy grinned. "Maybe."

"Well, you've come to the wrong person then. Try getting me to feel pitiful to your pathetic ass."

"Do you always curse so often?"

Harry glared. "Do you always feel the need to bother people like this?"

The guy shrugged. "Well, I am Cedric, in a case you wished to know."

Harry glared at the offered hand with a rather unimpressed look on his face. "I didn't."

Quite awkwardly, Cedric pulled his hand back around himself, "Right." He muttered, smiling pleasantly at him. "I'll see you later then, Potter?" Again, Harry arched his eyebrows at him in the curiousity.

Cedric chuckled lightly, pointing at the name tag at his chest.

Mentally, Harry smacked himself hard in the face. "Right." He said. "Of course."

"Try not to beat yourself around it, H. Potter. It happens."

"That's practically impossible. My automatic response to everything is to blame myself for every little thing I did."

Cedric stared at him as if he wasn't certain if he was joking around or not. "Right." He said. "Because that's what normal humans do. Totally."

"Who said I am normal?"

Cedric arched his eyebrow teasingly at him. "Who said you were not?"

He smirked. "Touchè."

"So, am I going to have to guess, or are you going to tell me your name, Herald?"

He frowned. "Why would anyone name their child a Herald?"

"I don't know. Why did your parents name you Herald?"

He glared. "That isn't my name?"

"Hunter?" Cedric suggested.

"I am not a character in a YA book."

"Hamilton?"

"My mom wasn't that obsessed with Hamilton when she had me, I am afraid."

"Hercules."

"Hercules?" Harry repeated indigenously. "That isn't even the greek version. Honestly, why would anyone name their child Hercules unless they had a Rick Riordan obsession when they had the child." He sighed deeply, glaring. "My name is Harry."

"Harry? Harry." He tested the name on his tongue. "I like it."

"Now, if you are satisfied, can you move on? You are taking the line."

"Right." Cedric sounded apologetic, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I am sorry. I've forgotten — anyway, see you around, Harry?"

"Hopefully not." Harry growled in the annoyance. Not long after he was gone, Harry realized with a start, there was a piece of a paper with his number on it. Call me, "Herald", it said.


	2. Two

Even if Harry didn't get dragged all the way to Scotland early that morning to meet the woman who would be his future stepmother — who also just happened to be the mother of his ex boyfriend Blaise, but none of his parents knew that — he really doubted he would have called Cedric today. For one thing, hooking up with random strangers may be what Theodore may do on his free and even busy time, but it wasn't his thing. For another, it felt too soon after his last relationship. He may have told his friends he was over Blaise — and he was over Blaise — but he wasn't ready to throw himself into yet another relationship just like that.

Harry needed a time.

"So, Blaise tells me you and him were friends at the boarding school?"

Harry remembered all the things Blaise had told him about his mother during the entirety of their relationship very well. All those little accidents that had happened shortly after her marriage, the ones Blaise would have liked to believe so awfully were just that, simple accidents. But his mother was a very ambitious and cunning woman with a greed to match even that of Mr. Nott, Theodore's father. And maybe, just maybe she was really in love with his father, maybe this was really love match, but it didn't mean he had to like any part of it.

Harry forced on a smile. His mother would tell him it was always needed to put on a polite surface regardless of how he felt about the person. Not for the first time, Harry was glad for his mother's teachings in his childhood. "Yes." He agreed. "We were friends." Harry didn't know how much Blaise had told his mother about their relationship, but he didn't think it was likely he would tell her the full extent of it. So, he was probably safe.

Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly, staring at the cup of tea in front of him as if it was the most interesting thing he had encountered in his lifetime. His mother turned her head towards him with an amused eyebrow, a small hint of smile appearing on her lips before they disappeared and she turned her head back to Harry. "You live with your mother, yes?"

He sipped his tea, wishing more than anything for this torture of a day to end soon. "That's right."

"What does she do, your mother?" This fixation on his mother was unnerving him. What if the woman planned to do something to his mother? His mother didn't deserve to suffer because of James.

"She is a surgeon." He wondered if it would be awfully rude to leave the table right now.

He wouldn't hear the end of it if it was a rude thing to do. He should have asked Draco beforehand. He would have known, being the prized son of a wealthy bussinessman which was probably why Draco's father was so scandalized when he started dating Hermione, who was in their eyes, just a poor daughter of a mere commoner. But Draco was probably the only person more stubborn than Hermione and when his father expressed his clear distaste of his choice in women, he had spent a whole month at Harry's house, refusing to so much speak with his father until his father gave in and decided to let Hermione into the family, for now.

He could still hear rumors of Mr. Malfoy trying to throw countless respectable members of the society in his son's way — all titled, of course.

"Harry?"

Harry blinked his eyes, averting his attention once more to the conversation. "Yes?"

Cèleste sighed in the mild annoyance. "I've asked if you wished for a new cup of tea."

"Actually, Mrs. Zabini, I was wondering if I could excuse myself for a bit?"

The smile she gave him was a tight one, filled with annoyance. "Of course." Harry was quick to excuse himself from the table, hurrying away to the balcony for some fresh air. He felt like he was going to faint from all the anxiety there. This much of a stress wasn't good on him. Sighing, Harry pulled out his phone and messaged the group.

harryjamespotter: I am dying. Someone help me to get away from here.

pansyparkinson: don't be dramatic, Potter. It's physically impossible for you to die. Believe me, we've tried.

harryjamespotter: Pansy, why are you never nice to me? Would it kill you to be sympathetic for once?

pansyparkinson: It actually would, I am afraid. Sorry.

theodorenott: Children, let's stop arguing, please. Is it really that hard to get along for once?

pansyparkinson: Shut up, Theo. Go moon over Draco's weird cousin.

harryjamespotter: You do realize Draco is probably going to murder you when he finds out, right?

theodorenott: I literally don't know what the hell you are talking about.

hermionegranger: guys, just drop it. We all know he is going to deny until the end of time. So, how's it at Scotland, Harry?

theodorenott: because there's nothing happening! We are just friends! I've known her since I was like five, for Christ's sake!

pansyparkinson: methinks the lady doth protest.

harryjamespotter: it's pure hell. Hermione, save me. Get your boyfriend to get helicopter for me.

dracomalfoy: no, because a) that's damn too much waste of good money and b) it's far too hilarious to see you freak out over the fact that you're now going to be forever tied to your ex's family for me to even consider helping you out

daphnegreengrass: draco, be nice to harry.

dracomalfoy: what do you mean, mom? I am always nice.

harryjamespotter: mom, he is always mean to me. Punish him for me, please.

pansyparkinson: I will smack both of you. Stop bothering my girlfriend.

parvartipatil: you guys are losers.

lavenderbrown: but they're losers who just happen to be our friends, honey. So I think it would be wise to not point out the fact they're totally losers to them.

harryjamespotter: if you think you are making us feel better by saying that, you are so wrong.

lavenderbrown: harry, you know I love you like a baby brother, but why this relationship we have is so healthy is because I remember to point out your personal flaw every now and then.

harryjamespotter: you do it every time we meet! And since when am I like your little brother? If anything, I would be big brother, seeing as I am a month older than you!

lavenderbrown: but mentally, Harry, I am older. So.

ronweasley: did I come at the wrong time? Are you having a friendly sibling dispute with my girlfriend?

harryjamespotter: i will divorce you.

parvartipatil: yes, please do so. We will finally be able to marry him then. Sign the divorce papers, please, Mr. Potter.

ronweasley: me and harry? Guys, that's disgusting even as a joke. He's like a little brother I never had.

pansyparkinson: you don't need another brother, weasley. you have five too many. Though, did Charlie mention his debt to me? That wanker forgot he owes me for that card game.

ronweasley: why are you so involved with my siblings? First, you date percy, now this?

pansyparkinson: my relationship with percius ended because we both discovered we preferred our best friends rather than each other, Ronald. So, I will kindly ask you to stop trying to put a hole in one relationship I've had with a man that ended on a good note.

ronweasley: Pansy, if I were to ask you who you would save if me and percy were drowning in a lake, how will you reply?

pansyparkinson: my energy. It's your own fucking loss not learning how to swim.

ronweasley: why are you always so mean to me.

theodorenott: she says that, but she will totally try to save you both. Our Pansy, she acts tough, but she secretly has a very soft heart.

pansyparkinson: Theo, you are this close to meeting the sharp point of my high heels.

theodorenott: I know that you adore me.

pansyparkinson: Die.

dracomalfoy: being pansy's childhood friend, I can confirm what theo said is actually 100% true.

pansyparkinson: I am sorry hermione, but you will have to start preparing yourself to be a widow now. Because this wanker ain't going to live very long.

hermionegranger: we are not married. but please, don't kill him. I need him to get that internship with his cousin.

dracomalfoy: that's my value to you? Cold, love. Cold.

hermionegranger: and cuddles. He makes a very warm pillow.

dracomalfoy: why do I love you again?

hermionegranger: you like being bossed around. You are like one giant puppy.

dracomalfoy: please don't compare me to a puppy. I am more of a snake.

harryjamespotter: that's the part you are concerned about? She practically called you a masochist, mate.

ronweasley: we all know draco is perfectly aware of his masochistic tendencies. If he wasn't such a masochist, he wouldn't be dating hermione here.

hermionegranger: care you repeat that please, Ronald?

ronweasley: I am so sorry.

hermionegranger: that's what I thought.

harryjamespotter: lol

ronweasley: let's see how much you will laugh when it's you at the other end of hermione's anger

hermionegranger: enough of that. Have you seen Blaise, Harry?

harryjamespotter: Blaise.

hermionegranger: yes.

harryjamespotter: I suppose I saw him.

hermionegranger: and?

harryjamespotter: and nothing, Hermione. We are over and I am okay with that.

ronweasley: what about that bloke at the movie theater? You know, the one you told me about yesterday night even though I was in the middle of something very important with Lav and Parvarti.

hermionegranger: please say no more. I am not mentally prepared to hear about your sex life.

ronweasley: playing card games, hermione! Geez, you have a dirty mind.

"Harry?" Someone spoke suddenly, someone awfully familiar and quickly approaching, his footsteps echoing through the hallway that led to the balcony.

harryjamespotter: i have to go now, guys. See you guys later.

Harry lifted his head towards the boy with a somewhat clandestine smile, his chest heaving achingly at the sight of him here in front of him. Sure, he had seen Blaise back there in the room, but here by this balcony, it felt more personal. He felt a sudden urge to get away. "Blaise."

"Escaping from my mother? I know the feeling."

"Do you know where my father disappeared into?" Harry asked, desperately trying to have the subject on something other than their past relationship.

"I think your uncle Sirius called him."

He should have known. Whenever Sirius called on him, father disappeared as quick as a bullet even if he was talking about something important with mother, as if there was literally nothing in the world more important than spending some quality time with his best was one of the reasons why his father's relationship with mother worsened so much. Sometimes, Harry even had to wonder about the true nature of their relationship. But no, as far as Harry knew, his father was a straight man. There was no way. They were simply borderline close to the point it seemed as if they were involved with one another.

Blaise sat next to him by the balcony, sighing. "This isn't going to be easy for either you and I, is it?"

Harry shook his head in an agreement. "No, it isn't."

"For what it's worth, I am deeply sorry, Harry. I did love you, you know."

He nodded his head somewhat hesitantly. "Just not enough to stay?"

Blaise looked at him with those pained, dark eyes in an agony. "Sometimes, Harry, loving someone isn't just enough. There are other factors."

"Like what?" Harry asked shakingly.

"Like the fact that you weren't willing to tell your parents about who you really were. Like the fact that you were slowly destroying yourself into the alcohol and drugs and god knows what else. I couldn't bear to stand around to watch you destroy yourself, Harry, telling me it was the last time such a thing would happen and succumbing to the urge a week later. I am sorry, Harry, but I couldn't."

Blaise sighed once again, running his hand through his dark hair. "Look, Harry, I didn't come here to argue."

"Oh, really?" Harry deadpanned with a slight hint of sarcasm.

Blaise ignored him, continuing. "All I ever wanted was your happiness. I know it's hard to believe, but that's all I have ever wanted. And if you hate me, that's okay. As long as you get better, Harry." Blaise put a reassuring arm on his shoulder. "And you do need to get better, Harry. You can't keep living like this." But how would he stop when sometimes, the only thing that made him feel alive was when he was drunk?

Ever since his father had left him and he was left all alone with a mother who would work her days out because of something that Harry had yet to know, Harry had always felt as if there was something awfully wrong with him. Maybe that was why his father had left. Because he couldn't bear to look at him, at this person who was so wrong and broken that even Blaise couldn't fix him.

"I don't hate you, Blaise. I don't think I ever could hate you even if I've tried. You don't just hate someone you've loved for so long. I just — can't stand to look at you anymore." He may be over Blaise, but there was still some ache left in his heart over their break up. "I think that I just need time."

Away from him and everything he reminded him of, every little thing that had Harry waking up at midnight and crying his eyes out. He couldn't even tell his mother why exactly he was crying. Because he was so afraid she wouldn't love him anymore if she were to discover who he really was. "Tell your mother and my father I am heading home, alright?"

Harry didn't wait for an answer. He fled down the hallway immediately, everything feeling a little too much at the moment.

* * *

Harry didn't go home. It would be the first place his father would look for him. He didn't go to the inn either. It would be the second place he would look for him. Instead he had selected a random pub and started to drown himself out. "Rough day?" Vaguely familiar voice asked, leaning against the counter of the bar.

"Are you stalking me?" Harry didn't even bother to look at him as he sipped his drink, not really feeling up for a conversation or anything right now.

"Well, no. This is where I usually hang around with my mates. So if anything, you would be stalking me." Just his luck. Exactly what he needed right now. Fuck.

"I am sorry, but stalking really ain't my thing. The whole thing turns me off."

Cedric gave Harry a somewhat bright, beaming smile and opened his mouth to speak in a soft, tender voice, "Now that we've established that neither of us are stalking each other, what actually brings you here?"

"None of your fucking business."

"Come on, Harry, tell me all of your sorrows and regrets. I've been told I am really good listener."

Harry finally turned to look at him, feeling slightly amused. "So you are always this nosy."

Cedric made a face. "I don't think two times equals always, Harry. That's not how it works."

"It so does." Harry argued.

"No, it doesn't." Cedric was resisting the urge to grin at him, Harry could tell. Harry wished he would just give in to the urge. He thought Cedric had a rather pretty smile.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just joking around. But I am here if you need a shoulder to lean on."

"Why are you this nice to me, Cedric? I could be a serial killer."

Cedric chuckled under his breath. "Well, even serial killers need a shoulder to cry on, don't you think?"

Harry frowned. "No, they don't." He argued. "You are so weird." It was sort of freaking him out, actually, how friendly he was. Maybe he was simply far too used to assholes.

"So they tell me. Apparently, I shouldn't be so trusting towards people."

Harry blinked at him. "You shouldn't." He agreed. "You'll get your heart broken if you do."

"But even if I do, I would still have the pleasant memories of those times to keep me positive about a brighter future." Cedric smiled in a way that indicated he was remembering something rather specific at the moment that Harry had a feeling he would tell him a moment later. "You see, my mother died when she was very young. After she'd died, my father changed. He was different. Closed. Cold even. He would spend his days locked up in his office, while I would be forced to spend mine with maids who look after me in my father's stead. He wouldn't let me go to school with people my age. He told me he was afraid something awful would happen to me if he allowed me. He was always so afraid. Paranoid. It made me hate him."

Cedric sobered up, chuckling lightly. "But then I would remember the times when we were all happy and together, and I simply couldn't hate him anymore. So even if my relationship with my dad went sour, I am forever thankful that I still have those memories, you see, and someday, I hope I could mend my relationship with him. He is the only family I have, after all."

Harry had a feeling if he were to see him for a long time after today, he would need to protect him from the world. He was way too naive. This world wasn't made for those who were as naive and innocent as Cedric. "Had anyone told you you tend to overshare?"

"All the time."

"Have you considered stopping to do that?"

Cedric shook his head. "No." He said. "I am who I am, flaws and all."

Harry sighed. "My father and mother divorced when I was very young. And it left me in this situation that I didn't know how to handle at that age. Sure, my mother had me going to therapist to solve it all out and she would go out of her way to talk to me whenever she could, but the thing was, regardless of how much she wished she could, she simply didn't understand. None of them did. My uncle Sirius would have probably celebrated at the idea of his parents divorcing, probably. He didn't have the best relationship with his parents."

"So, I was in this hole that I couldn't get out of until I've started at boarding school. My mother went there when she was a child, but my father didn't. He went to one in Italy. It's why he's so fluent in that language. Anyway, I wasn't so positive about going there, away from my mother, but as soon as I've met Ron and Hermione, I stopped feeling so lonely all the time anymore. But there was still this broken feeling inside my chest. I couldn't fix it regardless of how much I've tried, which made me succumb to alcohol and such." He chuckled darkly, drinking. "Which doomed my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, as he'd told me today. Apparently he couldn't stand to be around me any longer. Well, fuck him. I don't need him."

"I think that we are all broken in our own different ways. That's why human beings are so beautiful."

Harry snorted. "Damn, you're so fucking positive."

"Well, one of us has to be, don't you think?"

Harry raised his glass in a toast before drinking it down. "Good point." And before he even knew it, everything was blank.


	3. Three

If Harry was the sort of person who awoke in strange homes on a regular basis like his one of his best mates Theodore Nott, then he probably wouldn't have had much of a shock as he did right now. Harry Potter didn't do one night stands. Maybe his friends thought was the most ridiculous thing they-ve heard, especially from someone in his position ― meaning that he was the only one outside of Theodore Nott who was single and totally not still mooning over his ex-boyfriend, but he was pretty certain that Theodore would never get an actual girlfriend even if they all forced one on him ― but Harry was just fine the way he was. He never needed one night stands to make himself feel less lonely, as concerned as his friends were for him. If anything, he had a feeling that having a one night stand would make him even more lonely than he usually did, which would probably end up with him drunk again on the bathroom floor and singing some sad tune even though he never could ever sing properly since he was a small child.

So, Harry couldn't understand how he could have ended up here. He was pretty certain he didn't sleep with anyone. Well, half-certain. Harry was never fully certain of anything when he was drunk. He could have slept with hundred people for all he knew. Not that was actually possible for a single, ordinary man like Harry Potter. He was pretty certain nobody even slightly ordinary could manage to do that. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and there came a half-naked Cedric Diggory with that illegally attractive smile Harry had gotten accustomed since they've met in the movie theater the other day, completely aware how his state of half-nakedness was doing unlawful things to him down there. Somebody really should install a certain self-awareness onto him, because the guy could not afford to go like this. He would probably willingly let himself go with some crazy devil worshipping cult or something.

"Cedric?" Harry let out a high pitched shriek, suddenly feeling very much overdressed next to Cedric. "Why are you half-naked?"

"I just went to the shower." Cedric explained, as if that totally explained why he had appeared half-naked in front of Harry. "And this is my room, so." Somewhat awkwardly, Cedric brushed the back of his head, his shoulders seeming to tense with each second. "I considered waiting for you to leave to dress up, but that seemed like a significantly long amount of time to walk around the house in such a state. So, I am afraid you will have to bear with me a bit." So, he did have some self-awareness. Harry was really doubting he had any. "Can you ― can you please turn around? I can't change with you watching me."

Harry's cheeks flashed in embarrassment at his words, realization settling in. Of course he needed to dress up now. That was why he was standing next to a dresser. "Oh, of course. Stupid me." Harry spoke with a slight shakiness in his worse, his body trembling a bit at this whole situation he somehow had gotten himself into yesterday night. There was barely any sound heard, but he did hear the sound of a leather belt being slipped into his pants.

"It's alright now." Cedric spoke, sounding quite like he was affected by this whole situation too. Harry turned towards him, shoulders feeling tense. He could feel his heart raced through the warm sweater he had slipped on yesterday morning when his father dragged him to meet his future wife, racing and heaving with each second, feeling the urge to remove himself from this situation any second, anxiety settling in. It was unbearable. "So, how are you feeling?"

"What happened yesterday? Why am I here?"

"You passed out yesterday night after drinking. I didn't know where you lived or any of whom who would know that piece of information, so I carried you here." Harry probably should focus more on the fact that he had collapsed drinking again, and less on the fact that this beautiful man had carried him here, skin on skin. Harry immediately flashed in the face again, shaking his head in an attempt to make himself forget he ever imagined such a thing. If they were going to keep meeting like this, he didn't want to make things awkward between them. "Maybe you shouldn't drink."

Harry shrugged his shoulders casually. "Well then, it is a good thing I didn't ask for your opinion, is it?" Harry found himself saying before he could stop himself, cursing himself at the fact that he always found himself saying the worst of things to the people who probably deserved way better than how he treated them.

"Harry ―," Cedric began, but Harry shook his head, interrupting him.

"Wait, I am sorry. I guess I am just not used to this whole thing."

"What?" Cedric asked, looking confused.

"People being genuinely nice to me because they are actually nice people."

It was true.

When he first met Draco and the other Slytherins, they tried to ruin his reputation and get him expelled from Hogwarts just because Harry got on their worst side at his first day at school (meaning, he had accidentally spilled coffee all over Pansy's fancy, designer clothes during his first day; yes, even at the age of eleven, he was drinking coffee, you know what they said about coffee; more espresso, less depresso). Hermione had only befriended him because she was as equally lonely as him ("Nobody likes an annoying know-it all," Hermione had told him then, all tears filled cheeks and bitter smiles), Ronald only had because they were literally the only people who didn't care who his infamous brothers were.

It wasn't until years later that he had befriended Draco when he found the other boy crying in the forbidden bathroom of the school (some girl apparently had drowned to her death by a couple of bullies there almost a century ago), the top buttons of his white dressing shirt undone, his green tie hanging loose over his neck. Apparently, that time his father's obvious disappointment of him was a little too much to bear. Never good enough, not compared to the ghost of a brother that died years ago. All my life, I was supposed to compete with the ghost of child, somebody that wasn't even alive. It made me so angry at him, at my mother, at everyone, really. If Harry was being honest, he was so filled with personal pain that he didn't even consider others could be suffering too. Others like Pansy Parkinson whose mother never allowed her to eat more than the designated amount, saying things like, you wouldn't get a proper husband if you went plump, dear, as if Pansy wasn't already thin and pretty enough without even trying. Or others like Theodore Nott whose father now rotted in prison cells because it was discovered that Theodore's mother didn't die because of an accident, after all, but because the man had pushed Georgina down the staircase due to the pure jealousy over having seen her with another man. Theodore was now expected to continue the family business, which had something to do with all the modern technology they all now used as he explained to him; Theodore who was barely an adult and who acted like such a child all the time. Theodore, who'd probably end up sleeping with all the employees, than actually do anything helpful for the company.

"I don't think having people be nice to you for no reason whatsoever is a privilege, Harry. It is a right."

Harry chuckled lightly, fixing the edges of his jacket. "Never change, Cedric. This world could use a lot more people just like you." He said, looking at him armwatch. It was almost twelve o'clock. His mother was going to murder him when he arrived home. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you later somewhere?"

"You have my number, Harry. Use it." And indeed he did, having saved the number immediately after he had received it. He simply hadn't had the chance to use the damn thing.

"See you later, Cedric." Harry began on his feet, stalking away from the room to the front door.

* * *

They were arguing.

They were arguing like they've always had when he was a child, back and forth, until there didn't seem like there was a single day when they didn't argue. Harry froze in the space by the front of the living room, the reminder of his childhood days flashing through his eyes; little Harry hiding in his room because his parents just wouldn't stop arguing, wouldn't stop hating each other, hiding and hiding until he could hear something get broken down the stairs, something probably either of them had thrown at the wall and then there was more arguing, more blaming and more hating until he could not take it anymore, could not bear that anymore. Harry knew a lot of children who would've done anything to get their parents back together, but Harry was not one of them. He may have wanted his father back, but that didn't mean he wanted him anywhere near his mother. Because when those two were in a room together back then, that was a nightmare. Harry had been living a nightmare, and he didn't wish to go through any of it again. He was almost twenty now, almost an adult. His parents weren't going to make him relive his nightmare. They simply weren't. He wouldn't let them.

"Stop arguing. I am here." Harry whispered, which made both of his parents' heads turn towards him automatically, a hopeful relief washing over his mother's face as she flung herself at him, arms around his neck in a loving embrace.

James sighed deeply under his throat apologetically, giving him a knowing look. He knew exactly how much Harry hated to see them arguing. "Harry, where have you been?" He asked, sounding like a father for once in a very long time.

His mother pulled away from him to glare at James, shaking her head in a silent plea.

Truth to be told, now that he was older and more mature, Harry didn't exactly blame his father the way he had when he was still a naive, small child. That didn't mean all was forgiven, though. There were things James could have done differently, ways in which Harry could have still had him in his life, but James had decided the best thing to do was to leave, leave him behind with his mother and away to Europe with his pals, whom Harry didn't like much anymore.

He remembered his uncle Sirius, how close they have been then when he was still a child. His heart soared up in a small regret from how distant they have gotten through the years, but nearly not enough to make him regret it all. Regret every fight he had with Sirius, regret every letter left unread. All because of the petiness he must have inherited from either of his parents. It wasn't even Sirius' fault exactly, but at the age of eleven, he had felt that James had abandoned him in favor of his best mates and that made him really angry that he lashed out his anger on Sirius. Not his best moment, he was aware of that. "None of your business."

"When you disappear from my eyesight in the middle of a meeting with my future wife, you make it my business."

His mother stepped between them before things could get more serious the way they always did whenever they were together in a room. Truthfully, the only reason he had even gone with his father yesterday was because his father didn't really give him a chance to refuse. "I didn't want to go." He barked, each word cutting sharp. "But you dragged me there, to show me off like I am some circus spectacle. How exactly would you have the woman to get to know me when you didn't even take the time to figure me out yourself all those years? What music do I like? Who was the first girl I've had a crush on? Do you even know these? Of course not. You were never here."

"I know, I know, it's always my fault." James waved his hands around himself dramatically.

"Maybe it really is!" He snapped.

"I never asked for you! I never asked you to be born." James's face flushed red with anger, and Harry's chest tightened at his words, shaking his head. "Harry, I didn't mean ―,"

"Well, guess what? I didn't ask to be born either. So, maybe you should have tried birth control." Harry fled away out of the door before either of them could stop him. Just before he slammed the door, he could hear his mother asking what was wrong with James, how could he say such a heartless thing to their own son? Harry didn't care enough to stay.

* * *

When James first met Lily, she was everything his parents had always told him about when one looked for an ideal woman; she was smart and pretty, didn't buy any of his bullshit and wasn't even slightly impressed with her, but it wasn't before long into the marriage he realized one thing, he wasn't in love with her, not really, he was in love with the idea of her and as Remus had told him once, that wasn't love, not the sort he deserved. Because as much as he couldn't make himself love her the way she deserved to be loved, she had also failed in that department too. They were two people who fell into a marriage bed because marrying each other was the easiest option right then, one where they didn't have to face the hardships that came with being someone they truly, genuinely loved.

He had asked her once, months after their divorce, if she ever fell in love with someone. She looked at him and sighed deeply under her breath, "It's painful thing — love. Sometimes you wake up wishing you didn't love at all, because there are ways love makes you feel that absolutely ruins you inside." She sounded a little broken then, like the memories of that person she once loved was still way too much for her even then. "But James, it's also very beautiful."

And indeed, it was quite beautiful.

"Why do you insist on being so bloody difficult, James?" Lily asked quite tiredly, looking at him desperately. "When you called me a month ago, you told me you wished to mend things with Harry. So far, I've only been seeing senseless arguments. Stop trying to get him to argue with you! You really think I don't see what you are trying to do here? Have you changed your mind so quickly?"

Truth to be told, he had left Harry not because he loathed him or because he loved his friends more than he did his son, but merely because he thought he deserved better father.

He had regretted it immensely throughout the years. "I don't know." He sighed. "I honestly don't know what exactly it is that I am doing here. I do want to mend it with him, I've regretted leaving him ever since, but every time I try, I keep messing things with him further. So, maybe I shouldn't try, after all. Maybe I should just leave the matter alone."

"Give it an actual try, James. Don't get into fights. Just get him to sit down with you and talk."

He laughed dryly at her. "You talk as if it's that easy."

She smiled. "Maybe it is." She said. "Maybe you are just overcomplicating a really simple thing."

"I don't think I am."

She shook her head with a small smile. "Stop overthinking thousands of ways it could go wrong, James, and just do it. Maybe that's when you will finally get him to understand your side."

Maybe it really was a time for an actual, genuine talk.

Another time, though. It was far too soon. He wasn't quite ready yet.


End file.
